


DEAR SAD GHOST

by TopherIsATribble



Category: Three Days Grace (Band)
Genre: Depression, Graphic Description, M/M, Romance, Suicide Attempt, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopherIsATribble/pseuds/TopherIsATribble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad ends up in therapy after a suicide attempt where he meets a dark stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This was it.

This was what Brad had been waiting for and planning for. This was what he knew was going to happen, what he had wanted to happen after feeling so goddamn alone for so long. Matt had been having success in the world, but him? He was nobody, had no income, had to mooch off his parents and little brother. Not that they minded, really; Matt had always welcomed Brad into his home and their parents were always loving and supportive, as they had been when Brad had come out as gay in high school. But the rest of the world wasn't so into that, and he couldn't even keep a job in food service because he was too damn depressed to function and greet customers. Matt was starting to get concerned, as were their parents, and Brad knew he had to do something before they tried to force him to get help... Again. He had refused each and every time, not wanting to take any more from them than he already had been. But it was getting close to them telling him that he needed help, and that wasn't going to happen.

No, this was it.

Matt was out with some friends, and his parents were out on a date. Brad was alone. He didn't know what time Matt would be getting back from hanging out and knew his parents wouldn't be back for a while, so he figured now was his best bet. He had tried his hardest not to let on any signs of what he was planning to do, hoping that he was successful in not letting it on. He had bought himself some new razor blades under the guise that his razor was getting dull and that that was why he hadn't been shaving. He had done some research at the library about the best ways to do this under the guise of doing volunteer work. He had found himself in the bathroom with a pen and a piece of paper writing his goodbye with a shaky hand. 

"This is... Yeah, this is what you think it is. It's a suicide note.

Matt: I'm sorry for letting you down and not living up to the level of success that you have... I'm your older brother. I should have never had to mooch off of your success with your band. I'm sorry for forcing myself on you. This isn't your fault, it's mine, I'm so tired of having to be subpar for you. I love you. Stay amazing.

Mom and Dad: I guess I didn't grow up even after all these years... I'm thirty fucking two and I can't even take care of myself. You guys have always been amazing parents, I just wasn't a good enough kid. Thanks for keeping me afloat even though I didn't deserve it... I love you both. Please stay for Matt.

I don't really have any friends or anyone else to address this to. I just don't want to take up any more of what you guys have given me. I don't fucking deserve it and I'm so tired of feeling so down. I love you.

Love always from Brad."

Brad set the paper down, tears staining it and blurring some of the letters even more than they had been from his shaky handwriting. He swallowed as he bit down on his lip, twirling the lip ring he had had for so long. He lifted one of the razor blades next to him, starting with a few small, quick slices across his wrists to feel it before he knew what he had to do. The house was silent other than his quiet sobs, at least, that was, until Matt pulled in early. 

Brad knew he had to, knew he had to get it over with before Matt could stop him, but as he raised the blade to slice one arm vertically, he was sobbing, his hands too unsteady to make the final cut. He heard Matt calling out his name, asking if he was still asleep. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, tried to get his hand to move right but it just wouldn't as he heard Matt try the handle and see that the door was locked. He heard Matt call for him to open it, knew Matt could hear his sobs, but he had to make the fucking slice. Somehow soon, Matt was shouldering the door open to see Brad, wrists bleeding with a paper next to him and a razor blade in hand.

He felt Matt grab the blade and push the others away, heard Matt say, "Shit," as he sliced his thumb open from grabbing it, felt Matt hold him close and pull off his shirt to wrap around the wounds, heard Matt grab his phone and dial 911.. He could make out the words "Brother", "Suicide Attempt", "Depressed", and "Ambulance" before exhaustion of tears and loss of blood got to him and Brad was passing out in Matt's arms, his younger brother cradling him close, terrified to let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while this is mainly about Brad, there will be chapters from the POV of other characters, like this one is from Matt's POV.

Why? Why did Brad feel like he had to do this? Why did he feel like this was the only way out instead of thinking of a way through?

These were only a few of the questions that ran through Matt's head as he paced around the waiting area. Their parents were on vacation, and he wasn't about to call them; he didn't want to ruin the only away time they had had in ages. Besides, he was an adult with money, he could take care of his older brother for now. Right? Except, Matt thought, that couldn't be true. How good of a job was he doing taking care of Brad if Brad had ended up here in a hospital bed?

Matt had been told to go home for the night, as Brad had been sedated. Thankfully, there had been no true cut to end his life, so some damage had been spared to his body, but still... The implications of the note and what Matt had interrupted were terrifying.

The note. Matt had picked it up as the paramedics had come for Brad, and after pulling on a new shirt he had been out the door to follow them to the hospital, that note in hand. He hadn't read it until he had been shown to the waiting room and asked all the questions in his head to the air around him, ignoring the looks he got from other people around. And as soon as he had forced his way through it, the bloody piece of paper had ended up squashed in his hand, then shoved in his pocket as he paced around with tears in his eyes. He wasn't leaving without talking to Brad, and they couldn't make him.

More and more people left the waiting are and more came to take their places as the numbers slowly started to dwindle. It wasn't until about 2 AM that he realized he was the only one still there, still pacing, still exhausted. He hadn't eaten or had anything to drink, and was about to collapse when a large hand hit his shoulder and steadied him.

He turned to look; there was a nurse there, wearing a normal nurse's uniform with a stethoscope around his neck. The man was tall, much taller than him, and had fairly light brown hair. The only way Matt could tell the guy was a nurse was that they guy was actually there in the waiting room, not in a room or now, well, at home, asleep. Matt made himself blink so that his eyes were clear enough to read the guy's name tag. All he could make out was that the guy's name was Sanderson. That had to be a last name. 

Matt had no idea what to say, to be honest; however, he knew he was about to collapse and let his hand catch the nurse's shoulder, the taller man understanding and leading Matt to one of the chairs nearby. He sat Matt down, then sat next to him, watching him silently a moment before speaking.

"You waiting on your kid?" The nurse asked, his Canadian accent thick as Matt shook his head. The nurse tried not to let on his surprise. "Usually it's only parents that fight to stay this long. I just got off my shift... You've been here all damn day without anything to eat or drink, man... If they haven't let you in yet to see whoever it is, then it's safe to say you have enough time to get something to eat even if it's the food from the shitty cafeteria here." Matt tried to shake his head but found he had no energy and heard the Nurse tsk. "C'mon. I'll go with you." He smiled and helped Matt up, leading him to the elevator to go downstairs for the cafeteria. 

As they waited for the elevator, the nurse smiled softly at Matt. "Who are you waiting for, anyway?" He asked, looking concernedly at the tired, small man. 

"My older brother," Matt managed, his entire body tense yet exhausted. "Found him trying to kill himself at about 1... They still haven't let me see him. Told me to go home, but 'M not leavin' without seein' him." He found himself yawning, the nurse's gentle yet impish eyes looking over him. 

"Well... It's going to be a long night then," the nurse said. "We should get some coffee and food in you." Matt barely nodded as the elevator came and they stepped in. He was almost nodding off, the nurse's arm around him for support since no one was around. 

It was a short time later until he was being lead to the hospital cafeteria and the nurse was ordering two coffees and two sandwiches. The nurse sat Matt down at a booth and sat on the other side before he was standing and getting their food and coffee in the cafeteria that was empty save for the two of them and the employee that had gotten unlucky enough to work that night. 

As Matt took a sip of his coffee, he sighed softly, managing to sit up a little straighter. "Thanks, Nurse Sanderson," he murmured softly, eyes catching the smile the nurse gave him.

"I'm off duty, man... You can call me Neil. So, man... Why didn't you go home?" Neil asked gently.

"I've been takin' care of him for a while now, I had success and he never did... Said in his stupid note he was tired of not being good enough... I just wish he'd realize that he is good enough and that we love him..." Matt couldn't fight off the tears anymore. "Sorry, Neil... I'm not a pussy, I promise... And you really didn't have to stay past your shift..."

"Oh, hey, man, it's okay to cry... Probably better you do than hold it in. I can tell you that he's gonna be kept here a while longer because it was a suicide attempt, but they'll probably let you in to see him tomorrow, man. And you've been here alone all day, I had to make sure you were okay." The taller man let his eyes run over Matt gently. "C'mon, eat and have your coffee and I'll put you in a softer couch in the waiting area so you can maybe get some sleep."

Matt hesitated before nodding and eating the sandwich slowly, Neil almost wolfing his down. And soon they were down to their coffee and Matt was finishing his and was aware enough to move around. He nodded, and stood, reaching for some cash to pay Neil back, but saw Neil shake his head. "Nah, man, I got it, you've been through a lot today from what I've heard." He smiled and finished his own coffee, standing as well, leading Matt back to the elevator. "C'mon."

It was quieter this time around at about 3 AM now as Matt was lead back to the waiting area and shown an unoccupied couch around the corner. "At least sit down if you won't sleep," Neil said. "By the way... What's your name?"

"'M Matt, Matt Walst," Matt murmured as he sat down with a yawn. "Thanks again, Neil."

Neil smiled gently at Matt, making Matt blush. "Well, Matt, it was nice meeting you," Neil murmured. "Maybe we'll meet again." He set down a napkin next to Matt without Matt realizing it as Matt curled up, watching the taller man slip away.

On the napkin was a set of ten numbers, dashes in between. Neil's phone number. Below it, the words, "If you need a friend. Neil Sanderson." Matt saw it just as he was about to nod off, grabbing it and clutching it close for the night as he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Brad awoke in a hospital bed, the clock beside him saying 8:04, light peeking in the window. His wrists had angry red cuts all over them, a mark of his shame at failing to even end his own life. He really did fail at everything, didn't he? His brother was in a chair beside him, asleep, and Brad frowned, tears falling. They came silently at first, then turned to sobs as Matt leapt awake.

"Brad, shh... It's okay, you're okay..." Matt's comforting words were just the opposite to his older brother; the older man began to sob harder, trying to withdraw, but his brother would have none of it. Matt grasped both of Brad's hands with a shaky sigh, working his jaw as he watched his brother sob. 

"I'm not, I'm not, I'm NOT okay, Matt. I should be dead. I should be fucking dead," Brad whimpered. "I want to be fucking dead..." Brad watched his brother's face turn to an expression of hurt and confusion. Brad knew how to read his brother so well. He felt Matt grip his hands tighter, watched Matt work his jaw once again.

"Why, Brad? WHY do you want to be dead? Why is being dead worth more than your family and your life? We fucking love you, don't you know that? I couldn't lose you, Brad! Why the hell do you think I took you in if I could?!" Brad watched the tears form in Matt's eyes dejectedly, guiltily as Matt let go of his hands to wipe at his eyes. Not only had he failed at taking his own life, he had hurt and now, it seemed, angered his brother and had to go through that as well.

"I'm not good enough, Matt, I was never good enough... I' tired of not being good enough... I'm not good enough not to make you angry at me, I'm not good enough to support myself, I'm not good enough to find someone I love, I'm not fucking good enough..." More tears fell from Brad's eyes. "I'm not even good enough to off myself..."

Brad watched Matt stand and move to pace around the room. "Damnit, Brad! You ARE good enough! You may not have a boyfriend, but fuck, Brad, I love you with all of my heart! You're my big brother, the one that fought off the bullies in school, the one that helped me find my path in life, the one that tried so damn hard to take the weight of the world on his shoulders when it was too much. It hurts so fucking much to watch you tear yourself apart for things you can't control and yet you do anyway! I... I called Mom and Dad. I told them not to come back from their vacation but, fuck, Brad, we all agree that you need help... So starting now... As long as you live under my roof or theirs, one of us is taking you to therapy twice a week until the therapist says you can reduce it. And we won't let you end up on the streets."

Brad shook his head, horrified. "No no no no no no no no no no no no no," he stammered. "I can't, no, I should never end up in therapy, no, I'm not that weak, not that fucked up, no, I already suck at everything else, no, I can't do this, I can't take any more help, I don't need it, I don't deserve it, no..." He moved his arms close to his sides, self-conscious of his scars. 

He heard Matt huff and watched him shake his head. "It's too late, Brad... You tried to kill yourself... That's serious. It isn't something me or Mom or Dad can take lightly. Hell, you have to be here another two days before I can bring you home. And they're going to make you talk to someone in a couple hours or so, and I have to go home and find a doctor for you... The guys and I decided that we needed a break from touring for a couple months anyway. We're fucking exhausted." 

Brad swallowed. "I made you quit a tour. This is why I'm not fucking worth it, Matt! I fuck everything up, I ruin everything for you. How can you even love me when I can't fucking do anything but hate me?!" he cried, more tears falling.

"Because you're my brother, Brad... Because you're you. Because you're creative and brilliant and sweet and try your hardest to give for everyone. Because you've always been my brother and you always fucking will be..." More tears fell from Matt's eyes and Brad heard him give a shaky sigh. Matt bent to kiss Brad's forehead. "I love you so much, Brad. And no, you didn't make me quit. The other guys are exhausted and have things going on, too. This just happened to fall when we were making the decision." He glanced around a moment. "I... The doctor will be here in a few, and then after that, I have to leave for the day, but I'll be back tomorrow to see you. I promise. I' not going to let you go through this alone."

Sure enough, the door opened and in came a doctor. "Hello, Bradley, Matthew... My name is Doctor Andrew Thomas. I am going to have to ask Matthew to leave unless-" quickly Brad was cutting Doctor Thomas off.

"No, please, let Matt stay... And please call me Brad, not Bradley..." He moved to grab Matt's hand, Matt squeezing it tight as the Doctor nodded.

"Alright, then... I just needed to go over a few things, Brad... Do you realize why you're here?" Brad nodded solemnly, ashamedly, swallowing. "Alright... Do you realize that you have to be held for a full 72 hours because you are considered a danger to yourself?" Again came a solemn, ashamed nod from Brad. "Okay, then... Well, Brad... Suicide is very serious. We do not take it lightly. You will be meeting with a psychiatrist later today to discuss diagnosis and treatment options as well as get a referral to a therapist. There are several consequences that come from this and our only concern is helping you recover and move forward."

Brad swallowed. "I... Yeah. I guess I really can't say no at this point," he murmured, watching Matt and Doctor Thomas shake their heads simultaneously. "I... Then... Can I get some sleep?" He asked almost ashamedly, exhausted from crying. "And, uh... Can I get a hug from Matt?" A tear of shame fell from his eye. 

"Yes and yes," said the doctor as Matt nodded gently. Matt moved to hug Brad close, gently, kissing his forehead once more.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Brad, and I'll call you tonight. I love you." He swallowed, looking up at the doctor. "Can I stay until he falls back asleep?" The doctor nodded.

"I'll let you two be. As soon as he's asleep." Matt nodded as Doctor Thomas left the room.

Brad bit back more tears. "You promise that you're not gonna hate me?" He asked ashamedly. "Even though I deserve it?"

Mat looked at him sympathetically. "I could never hate you and you will never, ever deserve to be hated." Matt sat back down by the bed, grasping Brad's hand.

Brad felt his eyes start to close and himself start to drift off as Matt began to hum a tune to him. And soon enough, he was asleep, and Matt kissed his forehead once more as he let go of Brad's hand before leaving the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Brad awoke after four and a half hours to voices above him. He wasn't sure what they had been saying, but he groaned with the headache that came from the light above him. He knew he had slept for far too long and that was why he was tired, not that he hadn’t had enough sleep. He blinked as he looked up to see Doctor Thomas and another doctor, a woman, standing next to his bed. He sat up with a groan, shyly hiding his wrists from sight against his sides as he looked at the newcomer to his story.

“Hello, Brad,” Doctor Thomas said. “You slept well.” Brad nodded tiredly. 

“I slept too much,” he murmured softly, looking at the woman. “Let me guess… You’re the psychiatrist that I have to meet with. We’re going to talk about happy pills and how fucked up I am.” His words were bitter, angry at himself for ending up here instead of in a grave, or better yet, not fucked up at all.

The woman looked at him with an expression of pity, causing Brad’s stomach to lurch. “Those are not the terms I would have used, Bradley, at all, but yes, we will talk about antidepressants among other things. My name is Doctor Kench, and I’m here to help you figure out your next course of action in combatting your depression. We can speak here or in my office, whichever you would prefer. Your brother Matthew brought a change of clothes for you if you would prefer to speak in my office. I know patient rooms can sometimes be a little stagnant and stifling to ideas.” 

Brad looked her over now that he could get his mind straight enough to do so. She had half her head shaved, seemed to be about his age. What hair she had was black and hung into her face. She had fake gauge earrings (Brad could always tell the difference), and seemed to enjoy somewhat the same scene as he and his brother did. And he shook his head to clear it a moment before speaking to her.

“It’s Brad, and his name is Matt. I’m not Bradley, I’m Brad. And yeah, I’d like to be back in my own clothes, and I hate this room already. I would rather do this in your office if I have to. I need a break from here.” He swallowed.

Doctor Kench nodded softly. “Okay, Brad. Well, in order for you to change, you have to be watched, because we can’t risk another suicide attempt, so Doctor Thomas can stay here while I go outsi-“

“No,” Brad said quickly, cutting her off. “I… I mean… I’m gay. I’d rather not undress and redress in front of another guy.” He swallowed, his heart pounding as he looked at her, terrified that he would be in some kind of trouble for interrupting her or that he would still be forced to undress in front of Doctor Thomas. He looked back and forth between the two of them, swallowing again in the silence before Doctor Kench nodded.  
“Okay, Brad, we can do that. That’s okay.” She nodded to Doctor Thomas, who moved to leave the room. She waited until the door was closed. “Okay, Brad, I’m going to hand you your clothes so you can get dressed.” A stack of oddly folded clothes was held out to him and he swallowed before extending his hands to grab them, angry red cuts visible against his fair skin. He looked down at them ashamedly before returning his attention to the clothes.

It was fall, and colder, and Matt seemed to take this into consideration with the clothes he had brought Brad. There were faded black jeans and a gray long sleeved shirt. It was obvious that Matt had taken the time to go through and pick the clothes he thought would be best for Brad because they had been refolded in a way that they weren’t really folded at all. Brad was the one to fold the laundry for the two of them, a courtesy to Matt for letting him stay and also something that he had learned to do that Matt hadn’t. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way they were folded, something a little brighter than it had been before. And now all he could think of was how much he wished Matt was here. Matt was Brad’s favorite person in the world. His little brother had done so much for him that Brad knew he could never repay. 

Swallowing, Brad stood with a shiver, averting his eyes from Doctor Kench as he pulled the jeans on, then pulled the hospital gown from over his head to pull the shirt on. He had always loved this shirt, but had taken to rarely wearing it because he didn’t want to ruin it and have to go on the search for a shirt that was as warm and comfortable as this one was that might have been more expensive. He crossed his arms a moment, almost hugging himself like he wished he could hug Matt right now. While Matt wasn’t always the most sensitive to things, it was clear that he loved and cared for Brad as much as Brad loved and cared for him.

He pulled on the pair of socks he had been given next, black, soft and fuzzy. It was clear that Matt had gone and bought these and just removed the tags because Brad knew he had never had a pair like this. He smiled at the fact that Matt had not forgotten something so small yet so comforting. Last of all came his shoes, but Brad frowned at them. They were new, brand new, in fact, and still smelled like rubber. He tried them on, and the size was perfect, but they were slip-ons, had no shoelaces. Matt had to have gotten these when he had gone and gotten the socks and taken the ones that Brad had been wearing when he had… No, that was too hard for Brad to think of, too hard for Brad to admit to himself right now. He hated it, he wasn’t even trusted with shoelaces, but he knew that the reasoning behind it was valid. He continued to stare at them as though they were foreign, not him, and Doctor Kench seemed to notice.

“Sorry, Brad, no shoelaces in here. We told your brother this, and he said he thought you would rather have these that fit and weren’t loose than to have shoes you couldn’t tie that felt loose.” She smiled sadly at him, that same pity in her eyes as before, and Brad felt sick.

“I don’t want your pity,” he murmured, his eyes returning to the floor from her eyes uncomfortably. “Are we good to go now? I’m dressed and I didn’t try to off myself while doing it,” he said again bitterly, desperately wishing he could get a hug from his brother right now. It would have been such a comfort, and he wanted to thank Matt for what he had done to try and make it a little easier on him, even if his attempt on his life had been stopped.

Doctor Kench seemed taken aback, but nodded. “Yes, you could say we are good to go, I suppose. Doctor Thomas will be back later today but for now, I can show you to my office.” Brad watched her move to open the door, swallowing and nodding as he stepped through the doorway, waiting for her as well so that he could follow.

Soon enough she was in front of him, and they were walking, Brad’s mind assaulting him with all these thoughts of how he was a failure, how he had ruined things for Matt, how he was tired of feeling so out of it and depressed. And before he knew it, they were reaching a door that was being unlocked and opened and he stepped inside after her with a shiver. The room was cold, not only in the physical heat aspect but in the mentality. The walls were white, a black sofa and chairs in the room, scattered, with a black desk. It was modern and cold, uninviting, and Brad was even more grateful for the long sleeves to keep him warm and hide his cuts.

“You can sit where you’d like,” Doctor Kench said, as Brad looked at the walls. Her first name was Shannon, according to her diploma, and he swallowed as he gravitated toward one of the chairs, more off to the side than the rest of the room. He felt like shrinking into the walls, becoming invisible, not being the center of focus. He had never been a fan of a ton of attention, preferred to stay more off to the side.

He watched Doctor Kench sit in the other chair across from him, pulling out two clipboards, one with a notepad on it for herself, Brad assumed. There were papers on the other one that he assumed were for him to fill out, and the clipboard was passed to him and his assumptions were soon confirmed as he looked at the papers.

The papers were not typical papers about insurance and that kind of information but rather questions about how he was feeling. He saw numbers next to them, ratings, from one to five, about how well the statements fit him. If he had ever been suicidal, if he had ever used drugs, if he was suicidal now, if he had been hearing voices, if he had felt unusually sad or tired. Most of the statements were about depression and fit, but there were a few, like the statements about drugs and voices, that didn’t fit at all. He tried to moderate his pain, tell himself that someone out there always had it worse, so most of his questions ended up in three or four range, not a five to be seen, but the ones that didn’t fit ended up with ones.

The questionnaire went by quickly and he passed the sheets back to Doctor Kench, swallowing as she looked them over, looked at the moderate answers for things like if he had been sad more than usual or if he had ever been suicidal, or if he was now. He watched her brows furrow as he swallowed once more before she spoke.

“Brad, would you care to tell me why you feel like these? Like how the being more sad than usual is a three?” Her words were gentle, confused almost, and Brad swallowed.

“There’s always someone out there that has it worse than I do,” he murmured. “Yeah, sure, I feel shittier and sadder than usual, but still, there are others that have it worse. I don’t feel right putting anything higher than that,” he murmured softly, his words almost too quiet to be heard. He heard the scratch of pen on paper as that was written down.

There was more silence as the papers were read. Soon, though, Doctor Kench was putting the papers aside, setting her notepad on her lap as she folded her hands and looked at Brad. His thoughts whizzed past, terrified that he was going to be told that he had fucked up more, that he was too screwed up for things to work out for, that he was just as he had thought before, worthless, useless.

He took a deep breath just as she began to speak. “Well, Brad, you know why you’re here. You attempted suicide. I don’t want you to think about anyone else right now. I want to hear how you feel, and only you. I want you to be as selfish as you can and just tell me about you.”

Brad’s eyes widened, having to think a moment. “I… I feel shitty,” he murmured softly, thinking for a moment. “I feel worthless, like I don’t deserve how amazing Matt and Mom and Dad have been to me. I feel like anything about death would be more comfortable and easy than sticking around. I feel like I haven’t felt happy in years. I feel lonely, alone, and why shouldn’t I be? I don’t deserve a guy. I can’t even hold a fucking job. I don’t deserve to be taken care of, I deserve to waste away. I haven’t been able to contribute to fucking anything since graduating high school. I feel like I’m worthless. That’s how I feel.” He was surprised at the words that spilled out of his mouth, feelings all pouring out at once. “I feel like more of those should be fives than threes,” he admitted. “But I feel like I also don’t get the right to say I’m hurt because I can’t do anything and haven’t been able to in order to try and make it better.”

Doctor Kench nodded, and once more Brad heard the scratch of a pen against the pad of paper. Brad looked down at his own hands ashamedly as he waited for words to come. Words confirming his fears, words telling him that he did need to do more, help more.

Finally, Doctor Kench spoke again. “Well, Brad, it seems to me that you have some pretty serious clinical depression. Did you know that depression can interfere with daily routines and make it so that you are unable to work or contribute productively to things?” Brad’s eyes widened as he shook his head. Doctor Kench nodded gently. “You aren’t necessarily the reason that you haven’t been able to work and take care of yourself, Brad. Depression does that to you.”

“I… Really?” He gulped, trying to wrap his head around the concept. “You mean... It isn’t my fault that I can’t manage to keep a job?” He watched Doctor Kench shake her head and he breathed a sigh of relief, tears starting to well up in his eyes and fall. He took the tissues that he was passed and wiped at his eyes, trying his hardest to understand what was happening to him. The room was silent a moment before he began to speak once more. “I… How can I fix this? How can I make things right, make it better for Matt and Mom and Dad?”

“You can’t forget yourself, Brad,” Doctor Kench said. “I’m going to start you on Prozac, and you’ll take it twice a day, in the mornings and at night. You can ask Matt to help make sure you don’t forget or something else like that. For the next couple days a nurse will bring it to you and then you can get your prescription filled after that.” She wrote it down on a prescription pad and signed it, tearing it off and handing it to him. “I also think that I might have a therapist that could be good for you. His name is Aiden Winters, and it seems like you might be able to have an easier time talking to him than you may someone else, so I’m going to write you a referral. I’ll fax it to him to make it easier on you.”

Brad nodded softly. “Thank you, Doctor Kench… I really appreciate it.” He swallowed, looking at her meekly. 

“Anytime, Brad. And remember, you matter too. It can get easier.” Doctor Kench smiled at him. “I’m going to have a nurse assist you back to your room now, and I’ll try to make sure make sure it’s a woman so that you don’t have to change in front of a man again.” He nodded meekly, pausing, before asking one more question.

“Do you like My Darkest Days?” He blurted out, blushing. “I probably shouldn’t ask, I know that doctors aren’t supposed to share personal information with patients, but…” He trailed off embarrassedly before watching her nod and smile. He paused. “I… I’ll get Matt to make sure we get you a little extra something to thank you. I mean… It is his band after all.” He swallowed softly. “It’s the least we could do to say thank you.”

He stood weakly, mind tired after all the words, all the thoughts, all the feelings, as Doctor Kench stood and went to get a nurse to help get Brad back to his room. He swallowed apprehensively as he watched her come back with a tall male nurse.

“I’m sorry, Brad,” she said softly, “but all our female nurses are busy and I need you to get back. Nurse Sanderson here is very good and won’t make you uncomfortable if he can help it, I promise.” Brad swallowed, hesitating before nodding.

He walked over to Nurse Sanderson, looking at the name on his badge, Neil. He kept this piece of information close as he moved silently to follow the nurse back to his room. He felt himself holding on to his sleeves to make sure they stayed down and that the angry red cuts weren’t exposed. He did not know this nurse had met his brother or anything.

Soon enough they had reached the room where Brad had been placed and stepped inside, Nurse Sanderson smiling gently. “Well, I can cover the window so the people out there can’t see you. And I’ll even be nice and not watch as long as you don’t take too long and you tell me when you’re done,” he said, Brad hesitating before nodding and moving over to the hospital gown he had shed previously. He waited for Nurse Sanderson to turn before stripping and getting back into the gown.

“I’m done,” he murmured. He watched Nurse Sanderson turn around and look, nodding. 

“You can fold those and get back into bed. Some food will be brought soon enough. Is there anything you need help with?” Nurse Sanderson looked at Brad with concerned, gentle eyes.

“I-“ Brad was about to speak, then shook his head. He thought a moment more as Nurse Sanderson turned to leave. “Actually… Can I get something to read? I’m kind of bored and lonely here. Even if it’s just a magazine.” 

Nurse Sanderson chuckled and nodded. “Men’s Health? Cosmopolitan? People? Time? Or even Seventeen?” He asked, causing Brad to chuckle and judging by Nurse Sanderson’s smile, that had been the intention. Brad smiled softly back at the nurse, who seemed to be fairly goofy, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Am I really that obviously gay?” He asked quietly, nervously. “Time works. More text per page, longer reading time.” He watched Nurse Sanderson nod and leave, returning in about a minute with Time, People, and a crayon. 

“Sorry it isn’t a pen, but this was all I could find for you in case you wanted to do the crossword in People. It might take more time, y’know?” Brad nodded at Nurse Sanderson’s words.

“Thank you.” Brad smiled softly, gratefully, yet tiredly at Nurse Sanderson. “I appreciate it.”

Nurse Sanderson nodded. “People will back in to check on you pretty often but as long as you aren’t doing anything wrong, you should be okay.” Brad nodded as well. 

“Thanks, Nurse Sanderson. I appreciate it.” He smiled softly once more, exhausted, not necessarily wanting to smile, but knowing it was the polite thing to do.

“Call me Neil. You’re welcome,” Neil said, smiling and moving to leave, closing the door with a friendly twinkle in his eye as Brad opened the cover of Time Magazine and began to read all the small print on the advertisement inside the cover. This was going to be a long while.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days later, Brad still felt like shit.

His heart ached, he still felt lonely, and while he knew that it wasn’t really his fault, the thought that it all was his fault stabbed at the back of his mind. He was back with Matt for the night, home, and even though it felt something like home, it also wasn’t quite home. He hadn’t earned his way to it, and he hadn’t grown up enough to take care of himself and not make his little brother do it for him.

This house had never seemed so lonely to Brad, even when Matt wasn’t around. When Matt wasn’t around, Brad would typically put on some music and sit and try to relax, to calm the storm brewing inside his head. But now, he was being watched like a hawk, Matt almost hovering around him, although Brad knew that Matt was trying not to, trying to give him a little space, which made the lack of space all the more suffocating and frustrating.

Brad had returned to Matt’s house knowing that there would be change, but he was shocked by some of what he found. The door to the garage from inside the house was now locked, unlike it had ever been before. Matt had moved all medication in the house to the master bath by his bedroom, which he could then lock. Both men’s razors had been exchanged for electric ones, and all knives had been locked in a drawer. Matt had taken all belts and shoes with laces and locked them in his bedroom for now, and the rule was that Brad now had to ask for them and return them at the end of the night until he was deemed no longer at risk. The firearm cabinet was now locked.

This just frustrated Brad more, to the point where he was blaming himself for his stupidity in getting caught. He was being treated like a young child, and he didn’t like that. He was older than Matt. He should still be being treated like an adult in his opinion. He didn’t go back to being five overnight. He had been upset and had done something to regret. Why did that have to change everything that he had just finally been getting used to?

There were a few changes, however, that had been pleasant surprises. Matt, who had a tendency to space out if it wasn’t whatever he was doing at the moment, had taken the extra thought to do some nice things for Brad while he had been in the hospital. He had gotten Brad some new clothes, mostly long sleeves, which he had said were because it was cold out, but Brad knew that it was because Matt was smart enough to know that he wouldn’t be comfortable showing off his wrists for a long while. There was new bedding on his bed as well, warm and comfortable and fuzzy. Brad supposed this was because the hospital bed had been so uninviting, with sheets so thin that he shivered in his sleep, and Matt didn’t want him to have to feel that way or think of that when trying to relax at night. There was a notebook and pens on the bedside table and some candy inside the drawers. Matt really was trying to make him happy, and Brad was grateful for that, even if he hated the fact that he still was unable to take care of himself. 

After taking a look at his room, Brad had moved towards the living room, feeling almost like he was suffocating from his own thoughts. He had sat down and turned on the TV, switching from the news to some kids’ cartoon that was so mindless he could just sit and watch instead of actually having to think about the state of the world and his life. He was actually starting to get invested in the show when Matt came to sit next to him with a glass of water and Brad’s medication in hand.

Brad frowned, hesitating as he looked at the things Matt held out to him patiently. “I don’t want to,” he murmured, almost whining as he subconsciously cringed away from the medication. He heard his brother sigh quietly, swallowed as he knew the words about to come to him. He watched Matt’s face turn to a tired frown, and he frowned himself as he was finally really seeing Matt’s face for the first time since he had ended up in the hospital.

Matt hadn’t shaved, stubble growing dark on his jaw. There were circles under his eyes, and it seemed as though he was thinning more than he already was (and Matt was already pretty slim). His hair was more disheveled than usual and it seemed as though he had only just finally taken a shower that morning but hadn’t bothered to do anything else. 

Just as Matt was about to speak, Brad spoke up. “Fuck, Matt, you look like shit… You need to take care of yourself, Matt… Have you eaten anything that isn’t a fucking banana in the past three days?” Concern for his younger brother grew on Brad’s face.

“I’m fine,” Matt said, brushing Brad’s worries off. “You, however, need to take this, because as much as I love you, Brad, you are not fine and you need to get there.” Brad frowned once more, swallowing before holding his hand out, into which a pill was dropped. He hesitated before popping it into his mouth, then taking the water and draining it. He felt Matt’s gentle hand brush through his hair before he was pulled close, the glass taken from him and set aside. “There we go…” Matt murmured.

“Matt… You need to eat or something, come on… If I can’t take care of myself, at least you need to take care of yourself.” Brad swallowed, pulling away from him. “Let me heat something up for you, you have to have something in the freezer that I can heat in the microwave.” He stood and moved to the freezer, which was damn near empty except an ice pack and some frozen vegetables. Well, at least that was typical Matt. Brad knew he had to have spaced on something, and apparently, it was feeding himself and restocking the freezer. He sighed, moving back to sit by Matt.

“Fine. We’re ordering a pizza. As much as I know I shouldn’t be telling you about taking care of yourself, you need to, because I need you,” Brad murmured to his brother. “We can get whatever you want on it, but you need to eat.” Matt was silent a moment, but finally nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get a pizza.” He paused to pull out his phone before calling in an order, Brad listening in as Matt called in with the toppings that Brad typically chose. Brad shook his head but swallowed as Matt hung up.

“I promise, someday, I’ll be buying you a pizza instead of the other way around and taking care of myself and you,” Brad said softly to Matt. He sighed in the silence that followed, neither brother knowing what to say to each other as the kids’ cartoon ended and something else came on. Brad frowned and flipped the channel to another kids’ cartoon, curling up where he sat as Matt’s arms wrapped around him. He moved to cuddle close to his brother, sighing, relaxing a little with the human contact.

He felt Matt kiss the top of his head as tears formed. Brad fought them, didn’t want to cry, but found himself burying his face in his brother’s chest, his tears falling as sobs racked his body. He clutched Matt tight, feeling Matt hold him close and fingers combing through his hair. He felt the warmth of Matt’s body against his, felt Matt’s even breaths fighting the rhythm of his own, shaky sobs, but he had to hand it to Matt for just letting him cry.

“It’s okay, Brad,” Matt whispered. “Let it out. You can’t keep bottling it up. It’s okay to cry. I love you…” Matt’s words trailed off and Brad felt himself being hugged tighter, held closer. “It’s gonna be okay, you don’t have to do this alone, not anymore.” 

Brad continued to sob until his tears ran dry, sniffling as he pulled away to breathe. “I’m sorry, Matt… I can’t even… I can’t even take care of myself. I’m trying… I’m trying to hold on but it’s so hard.” He curled back up against Matt, resting his head on Matt’s chest. 

“I know you are, Brad, and I’m not gonna let you fall again. I’m not gonna let you down. I’m here. This isn’t your fault, shit happens and you got fucked over and now we’re all just gonna try to help you. It’s okay, Brad.” And no, Matt’s words of comfort were just that to Brad. They didn’t upset him more like the last time. They helped and Brad was able to catch his breath and wipe his eyes as Matt offered him a tissue from a nearby box.

There wasn’t much else that needed to be said for now as Brad cuddled close to Matt, his eyes turning back to the TV. For the first time in four days, Brad had felt safe, at peace, able to breathe. And he didn’t have to move from Matt until the doorbell rang a half hour later.

Matt had stood to meet the pizza guy at the door, making Brad antsy as the pizza guy wouldn’t let Matt have his pizza in peace without a selfie. After ten minutes of the pizza guy being an annoyance, Matt came back to Brad’s side with the pizza box in hand. The coffee table was pulled close to set the pizza on and put their feet up, and soon enough, the two were eating.

More relief came for Brad as Matt seemed to perk up and feel a little better with the sustenance. He as well felt better with some non-hospital food in his stomach, and the large pizza was gone in no time as Brad was curling back up against his younger brother. It was nice to cuddle, be hugged, be close to someone he loved. It helped to alleviate a lot of the loneliness and sadness that Brad had been feeling, and while the feelings didn’t go away completely, the relief from them was welcome and helpful.

Soon enough the channel changed to infomercials for the night and Brad looked at the time. It was one AM and tomorrow he had to go to therapy in the afternoon as well as make Matt go grocery shopping with him. He yawned, sleepy eyes turning to see Matt’s own sleepy eyes looking back at him. 

“We should get some rest,” he heard Matt murmur, and Brad nodded tiredly. His first day back at home had been exhausting not physically but emotionally, and he was drained. He reluctantly pulled away from Matt with a yawn.

“We can go grocery shopping tomorrow before I have to go to therapy,” Brad murmured, the word like acid on his tongue. “We need some food in the house… And it’s something to do that isn’t sitting around with my thoughts.” He watched his younger brother nod. He stood, watching Matt stand as well. He pulled Matt into a hug, feeling his little brother hug him back tightly. He swallowed once more. “G’night, Matt,” he murmured softly.

“Night, Brad,” he heard Matt say, watching Matt smile gently at him. And soon Matt was kissing his forehead and heading off to his room for the night. And Brad followed suit, moving to his own bedroom.

Once there, Brad stripped from his jeans and put on some pajama bottoms but kept the warm shirt on as he climbed into his freshly made bed. And damn, was it cozy, he thought. Matt had done really well choosing some new bedding for comfort and Brad was grateful. He moved to put on some quiet music on so that he could fall asleep to it before curling in bed with a satisfied sigh. And for the first time in months, Brad fell asleep with no hesitation or difficulty sleeping soundly for the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Brad awoke to sunlight coming in his window, warm and bright on a cool fall morning. It radiated on his bed, and he basked in it quietly for about five minutes before looking at the clock. It was 10:30 AM and a Monday morning and he yawned, stretching out as he smiled at the sight out the window. He pulled himself out of bed, standing and shivering as he moved to pull on a sweatshirt. He knew he would have to get dressed after a shower, but for now, he wanted to relax, be warm and lazy.

He heard a car pull in and moved to look out the window, seeing Matt returning. He heard the door open downstairs, smiling as Matt tried to be quiet, unaware that Brad was awake. Brad pulled on a pair of socks, feet cold, as he walked downstairs to see his younger brother. He watched Matt turn and smile at him, smiling back gently, shyly at his brother, fighting to make himself smile.

“Hey, Brad,” he heard Matt say. “I got McDonald’s for breakfast, we had nothing and I figured you might want something hot. Let me get your pill.” Brad nodded softly, trying not to show his dislike of the fact that he had to take the pill. And soon, Matt was bringing him the pill and a glass of water. Brad knocked them back, watching Matt smile at him, fighting the sickness rising in the pit of his stomach at the thought of the medication.

He moved to sit at the table, Matt producing some breakfast burritos, hash browns, and orange juice for the both of them. Brad cuddled into the sweatshirt, shivering. “Thanks, Matt,” he murmured, his teeth chattering as he watched Matt frown and stand to feel his forehead.

“You’re a little warm… Let’s try and keep you from getting sick, you probably will, but we don’t want it too bad. Drink your orange juice,” Matt said gently, moving to turn the thermostat up. “And eat, it’ll help.” Brad nodded, starting in on the food and juice as Matt did, too. Even McDonald’s was better than hospital food, and Brad made sure to savor it as he ate and drank. He made sure to watch so that Matt finished his food, too, and once he was done, Brad stretched and yawned. 

“I should go shower… We need to get some groceries today,” he murmured, standing. He stretched one more, seeing Matt open his mouth to speak, then closing it. Brad’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at his younger brother. “What?”

“If you’re getting sick, Brad, you shouldn’t be overexerting yourself. I can buy groceries, you don’t have to come along, and you can get some more rest.” Brad watched the way Matt looked over him with concern in his eyes and immediately his thoughts went sour, and he was frowning.

“I am still a fucking adult, you know that, right, Matt? I’m a fucking adult and I’m okay and you’re treating me like a kid and I can go to the grocery store as well because you don’t know much about shopping for the right things. I can function. I can leave the house. I’m not fucking crazy,” Brad whined, his voice cracking as he flinched when he said the word crazy. “I don’t want to be locked up, I have been for four days practically…” His words trailed off and he had to fight the tears forming in his eyes. 

The look on Matt’s face was somber, as he stood, looking at Brad and arms wrapped around Brad tightly. “Hey, hey, hey, Brad, I didn’t mean it that way… C’mon, Brad, you’re okay. I just don’t want you suffering any more than you already have. I just want you to stay safe and healthy. C’mon… Let it out.” He held Brad close as Brad’s tears began to fall and started soaking through Matt’s shirt. But a shirt could be changed, replaced, and Brad couldn’t, and so Matt didn’t give a shit how many times he had to change his shirt.

Soon enough, Brad managed to pull away. “I won’t get sick, and I have to go to therapy anyway,” he murmured dejectedly, sniffling. “I just don’t want to be stuck here again… Alone…” He bit his lip, a terror deep in his eyes that had never been present before. He could only guess how much it scared Matt to see because Brad knew how scared his own self was at the thought of being alone again. “Please don’t make me stay here,” he begged, whimpering.

“It’s okay, Brad. I won’t make you stay here alone. You can come.” Brad watched Matt frown, felt himself being pulled close once more. “Go ahead and go shower and change, it might help you feel better. I’ll wait for you.” Brad nodded, swallowing and pulling away to move toward the bathroom while Matt cleaned up from breakfast and went to change his shirt.

Once he was in the bathroom, Brad realized he had forgotten a change of clothing, and headed back to his bedroom to grab a new shirt and a pair of jeans and some underwear, only to find that Matt had left a gift on his bed. He must have snuck it in while Brad had moved toward the bathroom, knowing that Brad had forgotten to grab clothes. Brad looked at it curiously, the size and shape of it making him think. He swallowed guiltily as he realized what it was, small and heavy and rectangular, and he set it down, moving to grab his clothes and start a hot shower to think about things and get himself clean.

At first, when he stripped, he was freezing, but as he stepped under the hot spray of the shower, he yelped in pain, too hot for him. He was forced to turn it to a lukewarm temperature, shivering until he got used to it. He cleaned himself slowly, contemplating Matt’s gift and what was about to happen. He thought about how scared he truly was to be alone and grimaced, knowing that somehow, it would come up, and at some point, he would get the pep talk about not having to be in a relationship to be happy. A pep talk that was more like a lecture than anything else, one that he hated hearing so often. It wasn’t that he cared about being single, it was being alone. That was a whole different ballpark.

Eventually (about a half an hour later), Brad stepped out of the shower with a shiver and got dressed, pulling on the underwear, then the shirt, then the jeans so that the shirt was easier to tuck in, and he realized he wasn’t as cold anymore. Whatever small fever he had had to have broken and gone down. He tossed his clothes in his hamper and joined Matt downstairs, trying not to think about the wrapped box upon his bed.

He could see the excitement on Matt’s face as he walked down, only to watch it turn to disappointment as he sat down next to Matt on the couch, the TV on to some random bullshit that Matt liked to watch. He watched Matt almost curiously.

“You didn’t open it, did you?” He heard Matt ask, and Brad shook his head. “I’m assuming you guessed what it is?” Brad nodded. “I want you to have it, Brad… Think of it this way. You never have to go without having me to talk to if you don’t want to. That’s what it’s for.”

Brad swallowed. “I’ve taken too much from you already,” he murmured. He watched Matt slump dejectedly and shake his head. Soon, Matt was taking Brad’s hands.

“Brad… You have NOT taken too much from me. In fact, you have taken too little. Right now, you’re avoiding everything, and you deserve better than you’ve had, because these things HAPPEN, Brad. And as far as the phone goes, you’re an adult, and you need to be able to get in touch with people for general purposes. The other one you had was a dinosaur and useless in today’s age considering it just died completely, and as far as me paying for it, well, I have too much money right now anyway. I can afford an extra cell phone line.” Brad heard Matt sigh softly and felt himself being pulled close once more. “Now, go open it and plug it in so it can charge while we go to the store.” Matt let go of Brad and Brad hesitated before reluctantly moving to his room.

He swallowed as he pulled the red wrapping paper off the box, revealing that his new phone was a Samsung Galaxy S3. He stared at the box a moment before pulling it out and plugging it in, Staring at it a moment more before turning and walking away, his stomach turning at the thought of accepting more help.

He made his way back out to his younger brother, trying his best to fake his smile. “Thanks, Matt,” he murmured softly, fighting the self-hatred turning in the pit of his stomach. “We can go to the store now…” He trailed off, watching as Matt stood, swallowing as he fought to keep the smile on his face. 

“Okay,” Matt said, grabbing his keys and wallet and leading Brad to the garage, Brad following silently, not a word spoken. He got in the passenger’s seat, swallowing as he started to stare out the window. The route to the grocery store was familiar, but altogether something he liked to watch out the window while he tried to think. But it seemed that thinking was not the best idea for the day, and Brad was soon fighting tears again as his thoughts assaulted him. He turned up the radio, fighting to occupy his mind without alarming Matt as the younger man pulled in to the grocery store parking lot.

Soon enough, they were stepping out the car and Brad was trying to breathe deep, trying to hold it together in public. Matt seemed to notice this as he moved to grasp Brad’s hand and squeeze it gently a moment before letting go.

As they stepped inside, it was warmer than it had been outside, but not by much. Brad moved to grab a grocery cart and started going through the motions silently, from one end of the store to the other, grabbing things he knew they needed until a concerned voice interrupted him.

“Brad, man, are you okay?” Matt asked, and Brad was forced to snap his head back into reality. He nodded slowly, robotically, swallowing and hesitating before shaking his head. He heard Matt sigh softly. “What’s wrong, Brad?” Matt asked gently, looking at his older brother with concern plastered on his face.

Brad stared at Matt. “I don’t know,” he said in the tiniest voice possible. “I just… I feel like shit, taking all this help from you and just in general… I… Fuck.” His eyes were full of pure pain, and he could almost see Matt’s heart break as the younger man’s face fell to a stare of pity. 

“Okay. It’s okay, Brad, it’s going to be okay. Let’s just get through this and get home. I won’t bother you, I promise. We can finish this and get home.” Matt’s voice was almost dripping with pity as Brad nodded, liking the notion of finishing these motions, checking out, and leaving. He just nodded and let himself continue to go through them, picking cereal and foods do he could make dinner, although he knew he wouldn’t be allowed access to the knives unless he was being watched.

He just barely looked up as his cart was about to collide with that of a stranger, or at least it seemed to be a stranger, until both Brad and Matt heard a familiar voice: “Woah, sorry, I was about to hit you, are you-?”

The voice was cut off by the brothers’ speaking simultaneously. “Neil?” Both asked, then turned to each other, once more speaking simultaneously. “You KNOW him?” Brad went silent immediately as Neil stared at the brothers with an amused smile fighting to overtake his face. 

Matt looked at Brad, then Neil. “I thought you didn’t go in his room,” he said to Neil with a confused tone that matched the expression on his face. Brad looked at Matt almost curiously. Why would his brother know the nurse that had gotten him reading material? 

Neil snickered as he looked at the two. “Not that same day, no, but I got him some magazines. Well, now you both know. I’m sorry for bumping into you. See you about.” He smiled slyly and walked away, Brad and Matt left staring at each other in disbelief.

Brad shook his head to clear it. “You met?” He swallowed, looking at his younger brother with almost a betrayed look on his face. He was hurt, confused, unsure what other information had been withheld from him. 

Matt nodded. “Brad, I… I only met him that first night. I wasn’t allowed in to see you and so I refused to leave, and he helped me find a couch for the night instead of having to sit on a chair. I didn’t even know that you knew him.” Matt swallowed, unwilling to add that he found Neil quite attractive.

Brad nodded. “He had to escort me back and watch me change, then he got me some magazines to read. He was cool about it and didn’t actually watch, I didn’t want a guy to watch because, I’m, you know…” Bread bit back the word “gay” in the grocery store, unwilling to say it out loud when he was in public like this. And he watched Matt nod. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got it, Brad. Well. He seems nice anyway.” Brad nodded softly, agreeing with Matt’s sentiment. “Well, then, do we need anything else?” Matt asked, and Brad paused before shaking his head. “Then let’s go check out.” Brad nodded, pushing the cart towards the checkout, lost in his head once more as they checked out, packed up, and made their way home. He was still just as distracted by his thoughts as they headed to bring things in, and continued to just think in silence until he was called to be told that they had to leave for his appointment.


	7. Chapter 7

Brad swallowed as he looked at Matt, wondering if this would go well. “I… You’ll… You’ll be here when I get out, right?” He asked his younger brother quietly, apprehensively. 

Matt nodded softly. “Of course I will,” he said softly, the tone almost comforting in manner. Brad swallowed before leaning over to hug Matt quickly before getting out.

And soon Matt was driving away, and Brad was left to stare at the building in front of him that happened to contain his new therapist’s office. He gulped, contemplating leaving and blowing it off when a cold wind came and hit him and made him shiver, sending him fleeing into the building to escape the cold.

A receptionist smiled at him as he got in. “Hello, do you have an appointment?” She asked, and he nodded softly. He handed her the referral form, watching her nod. “Can I see some form of ID, please?” She asked, and he pulled out his wallet, handing his license over. She nodded, typing in some information then handed it back to him with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Can I have you fill these out, please?” She handed him a clipboard as he nodded, taking it and sitting with a pen.

There was the normal patient information, and then a questionnaire identical to the one he had filled out at the hospital for Doctor Kench. And he filled this one out with some more thought, more honesty. And as soon as he finished, handing the papers to the lady, a tall, young man in his early thirties poked his head out.

“Hello, Bradley?” Brad grimaced at the use of his full first name and stood. “Come with me, please, I’m Doctor Winters.” Brad nodded and moved to follow the young man to his office. Brad did a quick once-over of Doctor Winters, trying to determine what he could about the man. Doctor Winters was tall, about six foot two inches, and had dark brown hair. His eyes shone a brilliant blue, and he was dressed meticulously. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or food anywhere upon his figure. And soon they were in an office only slightly more inviting than Doctor Kench’s at the hospital. “Sit where you would like to, Bradley,” Doctor Winters said, and Brad nodded, making a beeline for a more comfortable chair than the ones in front of the desk in the room. If he had to be here, he wanted to be comfortable. And soon, Doctor Winters was across from him. “So, Bradley, how are you doing today?” He asked, and Brad flinched.

“It’s Brad,” Brad murmured defensively, watching as Doctor Winters nodded to confirm that he had heard. “And obviously there’s a reason I’m here, so.” Brad dodged the question as best as he could, swallowing. When Doctor Winters said nothing, Brad bit his lip, feeling almost deaf within the silence. “Fine,” he growled frustratedly at the lack of a response though the silence had only lasted about two minutes, “I feel like shit. Is that what you want to hear? I feel shitty, fucked up. Is that what you want?” 

The silence lasted a minute more as Doctor Winters wrote that down. “Well, Brad, I’m not here because I want to hear you say something specific. I’m here to listen to what you have to say. If you don’t have anything to say, then I’m here to wait until you do.” Doctor Winters went silent once more.

Brad huffed at the doctor’s words. He was frustrated, frustrated that nothing was working, that he still somehow couldn’t hang on and be self-sufficient. He was frustrated that the doctor was being so vague, was frustrated that Matt thought he couldn’t take care of himself.

He was upset. He was upset that things hurt so bad, was upset that he had hurt his little brother so badly. He was upset that he didn’t seem to be able to fix anything, was upset that he hadn’t succeeded in his attempt to end his life, was upset that somehow, he had ended up here, the very last place that he wanted to be. 

He was tired. He was tired of going on, tired of having to fight to think that anything positive could come of himself. He was tired from having to go through the hospitalization process, tired from the feeling of waking up in the morning and trying to go about the day as though nothing had happened, because goddamnit, they had, he had wanted to die and somehow he was just expected to move on even though he still wasn’t into the idea of living. 

He was sad. He was sad that he couldn’t feel good, mourned that time in his life when he had been happy and carefree as a child. He was sad for no fucking reason other than that he was sad, and that he hurt, and that he couldn’t help it, and he hated it.

He didn’t notice that these thoughts seemed to pour out of his mouth, didn’t notice until he stopped thinking about how he felt and heard an eerie silence other than Doctor Winters’ pen scratching across a notepad. Brad swallowed. “I said that all out loud, didn’t I?” He asked embarrassedly, blushing as Doctor Winters nodded. “I… I shouldn’t have, I should shut up…” Brad trailed off with a gulp.

“No, no, no, that was good, Brad,” Doctor Winters said quickly. “It was good, you opened up, I could hear you. That’s what we’re here for. Do you think you can tell me why you’re feeling these things?”  
Brad paused. Could he? It was a foreign thought to be able to distinguish why he felt this way. He fought internally before shaking his head. “It all stems from the hurt, I guess,” he murmured.  
Doctor Winters wrote something down. “Can you tell me what hurts, Brad?” He asked gently. Brad swallowed, thinking a moment more. 

“I… I’m gay, I’m lonely, I haven’t been able to hold on. I’ve been a shitty older brother and have had to be taken care of by him and my parents and I should be taking care of all of them and that hurts. And I don’t have any friends, and I have no job, and I guess I literally have nothing to who I am other than fucked up. And it hurts that that’s the only thing that I can identify that I am is fucked up.” Brad swallowed as his words filled the empty air, making it feel heavier, thicker, or was that how he felt? It was all so confusing.

“You did just identify that you are something other than fucked up, as you say it, Brad. You identified that you are gay,” Doctor Winters said gently. “Tell me a little more about you.” 

Brad swallowed for a moment. “I… I…” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “I like music… I wanted to be a guitarist when I was a kid, but it’s really hard to find a job as that out there… There’s too many of us. And… I guess that’s all I know about me. I’m gay, I like music, and I’m fucked up. So you know just as much about me as I do now.” He bit his lip, thinking as he began to fight tears. “It just hurts for no fucking reason and I’m tired of it hurting and I’m tired of the loneliness. I just want to stop hurting.”

“So do you think there’s a way for it to stop hurting?” Doctor Winters asked gently, and Brad froze, thinking. He hesitated before shrugging, fighting more tears that began to fall despite his valiant efforts to stop them.

“I don’t know,” he said in a voice so small it was basically nonexistent. Then louder. “I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know. All I know is I’m so fucking goddamn tired of crying…” He trailed off, sniffling as Doctor Winters passed him a box of tissues.

“It’s okay to cry, Brad. In fact, sometimes, it really helps.” Doctor Winters said softly. “Unfortunately, our time for today is up. But I can schedule your next appointment and we can have those set off to the side for you every week,” he said gently. Brad nodded, clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” He watched Doctor Winters move to his computer, nodded robotically when he heard there was a three o’clock open for him on Thursdays. “That works,” he said, his voice hollow, as he moved to stand, holding out his hand for Doctor Winters to shake, who did so, although he was seemingly reluctant to. And as Brad moved to the door, he looked at Doctor Winters, so surprised that an hour had passed by so quickly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice the most genuine it had been all day. “For trying to help.”

“You’re welcome,” he heard Doctor Winters say as he stepped out of the door once more, freezing as he saw someone else there. It was a waiting room, he shouldn’t be so surprised, but he wasn’t expecting someone there right then. 

He took in the sight of the man, who seemed to be only just younger than himself. He had pale white skin, wore a tight t-shirt that showed off tattooed arms. He was lanky and had a cold air to him, his black hair greasy and disheveled. He had a smirk on his face that seemed to say, “Come at me, I’ll show you what’s real in this world.” And somehow, as uninviting as the man seemed, Brad found himself interested, intrigued.

“Um, hi,” Brad murmured, fighting how badly he wanted to check the man out any more than a curious person would check out someone they didn’t know. “I’m Brad… I’m uh, I’m new here.” He mentally slapped himself for the way he sounded. This wasn’t high school. He watched the pale man’s face turn to an amused smirk. 

“I know,” the man said quietly. “I haven’t seen you around before.” Brad swallowed. This man was equal parts terrifying and enticing. “But I guess that’s about to change. Once you’re here, you’re here.” Brad nodded, frightened. He swallowed once more, unable to help but give the man another once-over. “I saw that.”

Brad jumped, swallowing once more. “I… Uh…” He trailed off, trembling hard. He heard the man laugh, turning to leave just as Doctor Winters called the man’s name. 

“Adam? Adam Gontier, where are you, I know you’re there.” The pale man stood with a smirk and walked over to Doctor Winters with a wink at Brad. Brad froze a moment more before moving to walk out to the parking lot, his heart pounding, only able to think about one thing as he joined Matt in the car. He answered Matt’s questions vaguely, “Mhms” and “Uh-uhs” here and there, the same thought absorbing all his mind.

Adam Gontier.


End file.
